(MSRP: 3.7500)
What do a dead werewolf, a kidnapped coroner, and an inept witch have in common? LOVE AT FIRST SHOT. Emma Feltman is a master mage in training with one minor problem: sexual frustration has twisted her ordinarily powerful magic into an unpredictable force of chaos. Her current job assignment is the Supernatural Clean-up Crew. When a werewolf is unlucky enough to get hit by a car, Emma's crew is sent in to retrieve the body. Dr. "T.J." Jackson happens to be the coroner on duty. When it's discovered his mind is immune to magic so they can't erase the incident from his memory, they do the next best thing. They take him with them. Stashed in a cabin miles from anywhere, Emma and T.J. start things off with a bang. But can a relationship built under extreme conditions really work?
(100 pages) Spicy
Excerpt:
Emma blushed, but didn't drop her gaze. Standing there, saucy and bold, she made him wish she'd picked another place to aim. It wasn't that bad, but it certainly meant that sitting was going to be uncomfortable, to say the least. Truth, now that he'd stopped walking and straining the muscles around it, it didn't hurt at all. It really wasn't more than a graze.
“I'd be careful, Doc. I'm the only one who knows the way out of here until Vick and Phil get back tonight. You wouldn't want me to run off and leave you for them to take you back to civilization. You're right about their type.”
“But am I yours?”
“My what?”
She blinked at him owlishly. He didn't believe she'd leave him at the mercy of her compatriots. Suddenly, he realized he had her number. Emma was the type of woman who'd jump up and down to make her point, but she wouldn't let anyone else pound on him. There was just too much iron in her for that.
“Vick made no bones that I'm his type. Thank you, but no. I prefer my companions a little softer around the edges. So, am I yours?”
He was ten kinds of a fool. Here he was, bleeding on her steps, trying to maneuver her into seeing him as a sexual object all because he liked the way the sunlight streaked her hair. Well, he liked other things, too, but still. Instead of flirting, he should be treating the gunshot wound she had given him and planning a fresh escape. Reminding himself of the fact didn't help. Even wounded, the possibility of sex was too good to pass up. He really was a dog.
